


'Til It Feels Right

by FujurPreux



Series: 'Til It Feels Right [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujurPreux/pseuds/FujurPreux
Summary: Steve Rogers has been missing for twenty years. But now one 21 years-old Tony Stark is about to run into a bearded savior. A really hot bearded savior.





	'Til It Feels Right

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot to [sadisticsparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/) and [laurus_nobilis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurus_nobilis/) for the idea, the brainstorming, the beta, and everything else!

Fear and vulnerability. Two emotions Tony Stark always did his best to avoid. Yet, here he was, in a dark alley in the middle of the night surrounded by three thugs. He blamed both the whiskey he drank at the bar and his bleeding heart that had chosen that very moment to wake up. At least the old lady had gotten away unscathed. Well, more like the gang had let her go and contented themselves with blocking Tony's way out. Made sense, since his clothes screamed quality and taste. His clothes and his wallet. His big, fat wallet, which would now help him to get out of this, so everyone could go their respective merry ways as if nothing had ever happened and as if the thugs weren't holding the biggest knives Tony had ever seen with the pointy end aimed at his face.

He raised his hands up in the air and he took a quick breath as he prepared himself to be at his most charming.

"Listen," he began, reaching into his jacket for his peace offering.

"He has a gun!" yelled one of the robbers, charging against him without further warning.

Tony tried to sidestep him the best he could with all the grace he could muster being half drunk. He didn't managed completely, and it stung when the blade cut his side. But it was only that, a sting. It had to be a small and superficial wound – _please, be small and superficial_. Yet, adrenaline did weird things to body and mind, no matter how hard his wishful thinking was. In any case, before he had to face reality, he had to focus on getting out of there.

"What gun?" exclaimed a second thug. "I don't know which one of you is more stupid!"

"He has something in there! I know it!"

While they argued, Tony's mind ran through all his options. They weren't many. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed nothing he could use as a weapon. That left him those self-defense classes Jarvis had insisted on so many years ago. So he'd have go get physical. While half drunk. Hell, even sober he'd have the same opinion about this whole thing.

He'd give his wallet another chance.

"There's no need for this. I'm sure that we can work something out if you give me a moment," he said just as all the three thugs closed the circle around him.

"I'll kill him and take his shoes. I like his shoes."

"Great taste! These are fantastic shoes. You can get them even with zero killing involved."

They ignored him.

"And leave the body here? That woman saw us!"

"That's easy. Get him in the truck, throw him to the river. Bam! Problem solved!"

_Dammit._

"My doctor forbade me to sleep with the fish," Tony said. "Any fish. None of them is remotely my type."

Again, it was as if he didn't even exist. That upset him. How dared they. Being kidnapped and held for ransom would've been better. But for that, they would have to know who he was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to let them know. Tony Stark, a walking, breathing contradiction that wanted to keep walking and breathing well into the next century, thank you.

The three guys seemed to reach a conclusion and they stepped forward, two to hold him down and the other raising his knife. Right then, before Tony had time to kick any of them, a figure came out from the darkness behind them and disposed of Tony's attackers with two punches each, quickly and in silence, like a big and burly furious ninja.

After making sure the guys wouldn't get up soon, he turned his attention to Tony. The intensity of the stranger, a really handsome man whose blue eyes shined with worry in direct contrast with the violence he had just inflicted, made Tony's stomach turn. His stomach and other parts. Tony made an effort to straighten his back and put his best ‘this is but a nice summer night' face despite his hand pressing on his wound.

"Hi. Um. Thanks for that. I'm not really the kind to get into alley fights, you know."

The stranger's face softened, making him even more good looking. Excellent. There went another chunk of Tony's dignity.

"I can tell," he said. "Nevertheless, we need to have you checked," he added, staring at Tony's wound.

"It's not that bad," Tony replied and took a step. Yet, by then all the adrenaline had gone and he faltered. He stumbled and fell right into the stranger's arms. That hadn't been his plan, but for the moment he wasn't going to complain about the results. "This is me just humoring you," he continued, babbling the first thing that came to mind.

The man chuckled.

 _Why did his chuckle have to be so warm and gentle?_ It was unfair.

"Thank you," the stranger said, picking up Tony in his arms bride style. "Let's go, then."

Tony didn't ask where they would be going and instead he focused on the roughness of the man's jacket and how it smelled of salt water and salt water only. Not a hint of alcohol in his savior at all, which was a nice change of pace. He noticed, however, that he did look even more handsome up close. That thick, well-groomed beard made wonders for his face, and Tony felt the sudden need of running his fingers through the man's blond hair. It appeared to be way softer than it had the right to be. But he didn't know if his advances would be welcome at all, so he contented himself with staring as a way to distract himself from the pain on his side, which kept growing now the adrenaline rush was over.

Despite of that, or maybe because of it, it wasn't until much later than Tony Stark, world-recognized genius, realized how easily and effortlessly the man carried him through who knew how many streets. In hindsight, it would have explained a lot of things. Also, in hindsight it would have prevented everything that came to happen later, and that would have been a shame.

Soon enough, Tony found himself in the room of a one-star hotel that probably didn't even have room service. It wasn't his first time in one of those, but it was the first when his shirt was off without at least one kiss between the door and the bed. With nothing to distract him, he had to pay attention to his surroundings. A shame they were so dull and covered in dust. There wasn't even a TV.

Nothing in the room that spoke of who Tony's rescuer was. Except for an old and battered backpack several times mended, from which the man had produced a first-aid kit. While he rummaged through it, he had kept silent – silent and fully dressed – except for a few grunts here and there. Whatever other qualities he could have, one thing was for sure: he had to suck at poker. A multitude of questions were evident on his face, but he seemed unable to articulate them despite his efforts.

Tony could have taken the opportunity to reflect on what happened, to assimilate the events of the night and how they had made him feel. He could have. He probably should have, but instead he took the chance to take a better look at his saviour now that they were under the artificial light coming from the cheap light bulb. The man seemed to be in his forties, and now without the jacket, Tony could see that all his burliness came from pure muscle. Yet, he cleaned Tony's wound with efficiency and kindness. Every brush from his fingers on Tony's skin made him ache to feel them in other places of his body. Therefore, in an effort to distract himself, Tony began to make a show out of the pain he didn't have.

"It was very brave of you," the man said in the end, most likely just to shut him up. It worked. "To get in there and save that lady."

"You saw everything?" Tony replied, not pouting but considering whether to ask why he didn't intervene before.

"Not everything. She ran into me on her way to get help. I sent her to get the police before getting in myself."

_Ugh. The police._

"So, are you planning on going back and giving a statement and all that?"

"No," the man replied. "Not me. Not now." There was sadness and regret in his voice, and his face wrinkled. But it also gave some insight as to why they were here and not at the ER. The man then raised his eyes to Tony. "But if you want to do so, I can't stop you."

"I'll think about it," Tony replied, avoiding that look, already having decided that he wouldn't. He didn't need the kind of problem that came with doing things by the book, and he didn't need Obie's reaction to this. Even Rhodey would get on his case for starting fights in alleys. No. He'd better skip this one.

Next, the man applied a green, mint-smelling paste on the wound. It stung and made Tony jump on his place.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, for real this time. "A warning next time, will you?"

"Sorry!" the man replied."This will help you heal faster and you won't get a scar."

"Aw. I was counting on it to have something to brag about."

The man shook his head and grabbed some bandages to wrap around Tony's torso.

"So, how often do you save people from thugs on alleys?" Tony asked.

"Whenever I can."

"And here I was thinking I was special."

"Would it help to tell you that's rare for anyone to remain calm and trying to offer a peaceful solution after being hurt?"

"So I'm special, after all."

"Everyone is, in their own way."

Tony frowned. "Don't give me that spiel!" he began, but he couldn't go any further.

The man frowned back and grabbed Tony's chin to look at him, maybe looking for more wounds. He looked so serious and focused and the intensity reminded Tony of how he had felt back in the alley. It reminded him of the fear and of how close to death he had been and he panicked. His rational filters jumped out the window, which in turn led him to do the first thing his lizard brain told him.

He leaned forward and kissed the man, who then tensed up and placed his hands on Tony's shoulders. He started to push him away, but Tony counterattacked by pressing his tongue into the man's mouth. Not only he found no resistance, but instead of pushing those hands were now gripping him to keep him in place.

"Maybe we should," Tony said, between kisses, venturing a hand to unbutton the man's shirt, "check if you're hurt yourself."

"I'm fine," the man replied, but didn't stop him.

Once Tony opened the shirt, he spent a while roaming his hands on the man's shoulders and pecs. They were as well defined as if they had been sculpted on purpose by a master, and felt like steel under the skin. He shivered and arched against Tony's touches, hungry for the contact.

"You've gotta be so strong," Tony murmured.

"A little bit, yeah." The man grunted and proved his strength by pressing Tony down to the bed at the same time he now kissed his neck, giving Tony the chance to finally run his fingers through that hair as he'd wanted. It was as soft as it looked.

"What should I call you?" the man asked.

Ah. A gentleman.

"Tony. What should I call _you_?"

"Grant," the man replied after some hesitation.

Interesting. But Tony decided not to comment on it. He had better things to think about. Like getting rid of Grant's pants. He had great hopes about what he would find down there.

"It's… it's been a while," Grant murmured against Tony's ear.

"Shh. It's fine," Tony whispered back. He had figured as much, but thought bad manners to say so. Besides, his hand had found its way inside Grant's underwear. He had found Grant's cock already hard and huge. "It'll be fine." Because, really, how could it not.

That seemed to put Grant at ease, because he went back to kiss Tony's neck and then down his chest, removing himself from the grasp of Tony's hand. He chuckled again at Tony's whine. "I should be the one complaining, he said."

"You're a mean old man, Grant."

Grant looked up, grinning in a way that made Tony shudder. "Do you want to see how mean I can really be?"

When Tony nodded, Grant got rid of Tony's remaining clothes and, without warning, he went down to wrap his mouth around Tony's entire shaft.

Tony moaned and arched his back. "Still awful!"

Grant, thanks everything, didn't answer and carried on with his blowjob, licking and sucking with raw enthusiasm and seemingly without the need to breathe. He grabbed Tony's balls and caressed them, exploring different rhythms until he found the one that left him writhing all over the bed.

"Terrible. So, so mean."

Grant snickered and moved to suck only the head of Tony's cock while stroking the shaft with his free hand.

Tony didn't last two minutes after that before coming hard into Grant's mouth. The latter took it all and swallowed.

"Damn," Tony mumbled. "Not bad." He smiled, and his eyes wandered down from Grant licking his lips to his crotch, where he saw what he expected to see, and as big as he expected it. To be honest, Grant's whole body looked like it had come out from Tony's horniest dreams. Furthermore, there was not a single scar on him, despite his admision of getting into fights often, boast backed up by his skill to put three guys down in five seconds. Tony felt he could spend days kissing and biting it and losing himself in it without it ever losing its novelty. However, that cock was a thing of glory, and he had to start somewhere. Tony smiled and spread his legs. "Now you," he said. "Fuck me."

Grant's eyes shone but then he grew worried again. "I have no – no lube."

"I just came. I'm all nice and relaxed," Tony said, sitting up to grab Grant's hand. "And I really, really want you," he added, guiding two of the man's fingers to his mouth to suck on them, slowly, moaning in the filthiest of ways without breaking eye contact.

Grant moaned right back, his resistance melting away. After that, he let Tony do. As everyone should. Then the world would be a better place. As it was now. As proven by this bed where he did as he wanted, making it a fantastic place to be in.

Soon, Tony was on his back again, spread eagle as Grant's fingers worked their way into his ass, taking their time opening him and preparing him.

"Hurry!"

"I don't want to hurt you. I – I know how big I am," Grant mumbled, as if it was difficult for him to accept his own size instead of being proud of it.

"I know! I saw it! That's why I want you to fuck me, to be honest." He moved his hips toward Grant's fingers. "Hard and fast. I want to feel you!" Fine. Fine. He would say it. "Please."

In retaliation, Grant curved his fingers and hit the right spot.

"Fuck you! Do that again."

Grant complied and even repeated it a couple of times before he kissed Tony's hip and removed his fingers to place himself between his legs.

"Finally."

Grant pressed that big cock of his against him and pushed forward. Slowly. Too slowly.

"I'll stop as soon as you tell me to," he said, gasping.

"I don't want you to," came the reply.

Grant nodded and kept going until he was all the way in. Tony licked his lips in marvel. That had to be the biggest cock he had ever had inside him, not counting the insane dildos some of his bedmates had had. But it wouldn't be a good idea to share such information, so he kept quiet. It turned out to be a good idea because Grant began to move, although still not fast enough for Tony's taste.

"Come on, old man, is that all your back can take?"

"Disrespectful brat," Grant replied, not without amusement in his voice.

He did speed up, though. Tony closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride. It felt great, and Grant thought the same, judging by the way he to moaned and panted. Tony decided to be good and clenched here and there at random intervals, treasuring the louder moans and yelps he got as a reward.

By then, Tony had forgotten all about his wound. But Grant hadn't, given how he avoided touching that area. Everywhere else was fair game. Tony's torso, shoulders, and neck got thoroughly bitten, licked, and kissed, and Grant's hips were relentless, castigating Tony's ass with the same intensity he had when he rescued him earlier. Tony loved every second of it.

"You're so tight. Feels so good." Grant leaned forward to kiss Tony, all tongue and shivers.

So, a gentleman and a romantic.

Tony kissed him back, running the fingers of one hand through Grant's hair again, and roaming his back with the other. His massive, muscular back. All in all, Grant owned an impossibly perfect body, and he was having amazing sex with Tony and that made Tony glad that he took a different route from the bar home that night.

"I need to come, Tony," Grant said, breaking the kiss but speaking so close to Tony's lips he could nevertheless feel them.

Tony looked at Grant's eyes. "Come inside me."

Grant didn't need further encouragement. He kissed Tony again and thrust once more before climaxing hard and deep into him. He then let himself flop on top of his lover, still shivering. Said lover patted his head, in an attempt not to be rude. Grant didn't remain there for long, though. Just as he knew how big he was, he was aware of his weight, so he moved to be on his side facing Tony. The latter reciprocated and turned to his side himself, resting his head on his own hand.

"How long had it been, really?"

"About twenty years, give or take," Grant replied, eyes closed. He opened them and Tony could see they were hazy with the afterglow. "You were great. Thank you."

Tony laughed. "Thanks to you. But come on. Give me the real number."

Embarrassed, Grant looked away from Tony's face. "It's the truth. Twenty years."

"Nope. I don't believe it. I mean, have you looked at yourself?"

Grant shrugged a shoulder. "Life kept happening. And I hadn't really wanted to."

"Until now."

"Until now," Grant conceded.

Tony grinned. "Hey, I'm special after all!"

Grant laughed. It was a nice, and Tony enjoyed almost as much as the sex.

Tony placed a hand on Grant's chest. "In the spirit of catching up, how about another round? As soon as you can, I mean. Whenever that is."

Grant grabbed Tony by the waist and brought him closer to him. "All right. Give me five minutes, you brat."

" _Now_ you're bullshitting me."

"You wish."

Tony bit Grant's lower lip. "Make it happen and I'll ride your cock until you're begging for mercy."

The man smiled and turned them around so Tony could be on top.

"Begging is not my style, Tony. But if you want to have a chance, you'll have to do some work."

Tony rolled his eyes all dramatic. "Ugh. I hate work," he whined and began kissing Grant's broad chest while also keeping track of the time only so he could rub it to Grant's face when the five minutes were up. "Sex, on the other hand…"

Grant placed a hand on Tony's head. "On the other hand…?"

"It's way more fun."

Tony went ahead to prove it, exploring that beautiful torso with his tongue and mouth, proud of the way he was making Grant's breathing go faster and faster. However, just as he was biting Grant's sides in an attempt to leave a mark, he noticed the man's cock stirring at four minutes and twenty seconds.

"Amazing," Tony whispered. He grabbed it and stroke it fast and hard. Feeling it grow in his hand again so soon made him believe that he could accomplish anything in the world.

Grant sighed, relaxing on the bed and melting under Tony's caresses. "Just like that…" He opened an eye. "Now, I believe you made some promises."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Tony sat astride Grant and lowered himself on him, licking his lips. "It's so amazing."

Grant pushed his hips upward a bit, teasing. "You said that already. Kids today don't cultivate their vocabulary."

"Wonderful, then. Marvelous. Incredible. Whoever let you go must've spent the last twenty years regretting it."

There was a pang of… something on Grant's face after that. Something that made Tony freak out just by the idea of having to deal with, but he didn't want to ruin this either. He hurried to lean down to kiss Grant once more. It had helped before, it had to help now too.

It did. It helped. Grant kissed Tony back almost as hard as his cock worked its way inside him and rubbed his back with one hand while squishing his butt with the other. Good. Better keep it like that. He also kept moving up and down, tightening up and releasing for the joy of hearing the noises coming from Grant, who after the second orgasm declared he could do that all night. Once more, he had been right. At no point his refractory period went over five minutes, making Tony think the man might not have been human. He didn't care, though. Why would he? Fucking an exiled alien king should've been in his bucket list anyway.

In the end, however, it had been Tony the one to concede defeat. But what a glorious defeat that had been.

*

Tony woke up sore and sprawled on an unfamiliar bed. Not his first time, although this once his hangover was minimal and his sense of satisfaction, high. As he remembered what happened, part of him was mystified about not having been kicked out yet – not unheard of either. The other part wondered if they had broken any kind of record. He also remembered being tenderly held in his sleep, but by then Grant being a cuddler wasn't a surprise. Tony had let him because he had been left exhausted and unable to move. It wouldn't be a lie, just not the entire story. The rest, he would keep to himself. The rest that entailed the warmth of Grant's big arms around him and of his muscular chest pressed against Tony's back and of Grant's steady breathing caressing his neck.

All throughout the night Tony had felt… safe. Grant had saved him once and this made him feel he would do it again whenever he needed it. Tony had felt safe and he hated it. He hated feeling so vulnerable and yet he yearned for it to the point his heart ached. He wanted this again but exhaustion would forever be his official story and the truth would never leave his lips.

It was all made worse because Grant wasn't around. Tony had woken up to a bed that was cold and empty. The exact opposite of how it had been only a few hours ago. Tony's sudden and unwelcome disappointment was short-lived, though. Grant's backpack and first-aid kit remained in the room. He also discovered his own clothes folded in a neat pile on a chair. The idea of checking his wallet crossed his mind, but he decided against it. Even if Grant had taken all the money, it had been worth it. Besides, he had much more than that in any of his bank accounts.

With some effort, Tony sat up to see his reflection in the mirror and admire the love bites on his chest. They looked nice. Too nice, actually, Tony thought as he realized that they formed an aesthetically pleasing pattern. Wondering if this had been intentional, his finger hovered over the marks, traveling through them, joining them with imaginary lines as he relived in his mind the moments they had been given. He didn't remember being so satisfied with sex before. Perhaps he should try to convince Grant to go for a few more encores.

The door opened. Grant walked in carrying a tray full of decent-looking food. He raised his eyebrows only a little as soon as he saw Tony awake and then looked aside for a second. But he went back to look straight at Tony's face, even sporting a small, shy smile. It seemed like he had taken a shower and even changed into clean clothes. If anything, he looked even more handsome than the night before, the one reason Tony was willing to forgive him that he didn't invite him to the bathroom.

"Good morning," Grant said as he closed the door behind him with a graceful movement of his foot.

"Wow. Look at that. There is room service in this place after all."

"I didn't know what you like, so I brought a little of everything."

"Great. I'll have you know that I'm very picky," Tony said, reaching out for one of the two cups of coffee on the tray as it was being placed on his lap. "But you've proven to have excellent taste, so I'll risk it."

Grant sat on the chair next to the table and blushed. The big, middle-aged man who had used Tony's ass all night long went all red after such a simple compliment, making Tony wonder if it hadn't only been twenty years without sex, but also twenty years without actual human interaction. He very pointedly decided not to ask, even if he couldn't help but feel for Grant.

"So, where did you get all of this?" Tony asked, grabbing a dish with scrambled eggs. It was difficult to screw up scrambled eggs.

"The kitchen," Grant replied. He got a big sandwich from the tray only after Tony got his food. "They were great at putting all of this together so quickly."

"You offered them a good tip, then."

"How did you know?"

"Experience. Besides, you look like a good tipper."

Grant laughed softly. "How does a good tipper look like?"

 _Generous and big and warm and protective and gorgeous,_ Tony didn't say. He settled on, "Like you."

"That's not even an answer."

"It is. Get me pen and paper and I'll prove it with math."

"All right." Grant got a notebook and a pencil from his backpack and offered them to Tony to call his bluff. "Here you go."

Tony took them and opened the notebook. It was as old as the backpack, although somewhat less battered, even if its pages had a yellowish tint and were well on their way to become brittle. Only the first handful of pages had been used. They were covered with detailed drawings, landscapes of a New York of long ago only seen in old photographs and movies. A wonder of technical achievement and full of nostalgia. Just like Grant.

"You made those?" Tony asked.

Grant looked away again and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. I meant to draw more while I was traveling, but – "

"But life kept happening," Tony said, repeating Grant's previous words.

"Yes, that's it."

"They're really good, Grant. Say, is there anything you _can't_ do?"

That prompted another smile, still self-conscious but now a little wider. "High-school level math and higher eludes me."

"So you were going to let me write my equations for nothing?"

Grant's smile became a shiny grin. What a beautiful sight. "It seemed like you would've enjoyed it. I'm good at recognizing nerds when I see them."

"You think I'm a nerd?" Tony asked, faking offense.

"I had my suspicions before. Now I'm sure."

"What gave me away? The way I look?"

"Yes. You look like a nerd. I can't prove it mathematically, so you'll have to trust my gut."

Grant's delivery had been so deadpan and confident that, despite the subject matter, it made Tony believe he was being serious. For a second, in Tony's mind Grant was capable of accurately categorize people in their respective stereotypes just by seeing them. And then, Grant began snickering.

Tony groaned and made a face. "Holy shit, _you_ are the nerd, Grant!"

Grant started laughing, loudly and heartily. Worse yet, contagiously. Unable to help himself, Tony followed. There they were, laughing together, sharing the silliest in-joke possible. Tony surprised himself when he realized how not awkward this was. Quite the opposite. He felt comfortable. He felt at ease. He felt like he belonged.

Fear creeped into his stomach. He didn't want to ruin this. He shouldn't ruin this.

He was so going to ruin this.

In order to keep his mouth occupied in something that wasn't saying an atrocity, he reached out to grab the first thing from the tray that crossed his hand's path. He found nothing but morsels and a few cookies.

_When had Grant eaten all of that?_

"When did you eat all of that?" Tony asked. He sounded the same way he felt: more amused than upset.

Grant grew red again. "While we were talking. I have a fast metabolism."

"I'd say."

What weirded out Tony the most was that he hadn't noticed. He had been right there, in front of Grant, seeing him eat, and he hadn't noticed that he had wolfed down all the food. He decided to blame the new shine in Grant's eyes that distracted him.

"Are you still hungry?" Grant asked. "I can get you more food."

"Nah. I'm good. Just wanted some dessert. But you don't have to go anywhere. I guess I can settle for your cock this once."

Grant sighed and got all serious again. "Listen, about last night. It was amazing, as you put it – "

"I also said wonderful and incredible," Tony replied in a steady voice, although cursing himself on the inside.

_I ruined it in the end. Goddamit, Stark._

"It truly was, but I don't think it would be a good idea to – "

"Continue this?" Tony scoffed. "Don't I know it. A booty call with no strings attached. Good enough for me. I was about to propose that."

Grant sighed and stared at his hands. "I'm sorry. It's just – "

"Hey, hey. It's all right. You don't have to explain anything."

"Perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier," Grant continued, looking ever more ashamed. He took a deep breath and Tony braced himself for whatever life-changing revelation was on its way. "But I have to do it. In daylight, you look younger than I thought you were last night."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Tony waved his hands. "No, no! It's fine! I'm of age! All legal! You're in the clear." He reached for his wallet and presented his ID in front of Grant's eyes. "See?"

Grant went pale as he read the information on the ID. "Stark?"

"That's not the part you should focus on. Look at where it proves I'm 21."

"Anthony Stark." Grant turned to look at Tony's face, still pale, still incredulous. "You're Howard's son. That's why you looked so familiar."

Tony's stomach turned into a knot. It seemed like his father had yet again ruined something for him even from beyond the grave. But he couldn't run away now. The door was far from the bed and he was still naked and he had promised Rhodey he would do his best not to be charged with indecent exposure again.

"You knew Howard?" he asked instead.

Grant stood up and went to look out the window. "Yes. I knew him. I heard about what happened. I'm sorry."

But Tony wouldn't hear any condolences. He refused to acknowledge them and tried to change the subject before Grant could tell him to get dressed and get out. First, the walking, talking contradiction was back and he would leave on his own terms. Second, he couldn't leave not knowing. "What did he do to you?"

"He did nothing to me. Not directly. We used to know each other for years, but we had a falling out due – let's call it philosophical disagreements."

"He never mentioned anyone called Grant, so it must've been quite a disagreement."

"It was, but that wouldn't be the name he'd use to refer to me." He grabbed something from his backpack and tossed it to Tony. A pair of dog tags.

Curious, Tony looked at them. He looked up at Grant and then back at the tags.

So no exiled alien king, but something he hadn't dared to put in his bucket list but should have.

The truth was right there, clear for him to see and in all caps.

(...haha. _Caps_.)

His rescuer's name was Grant, yes. In that he hadn't lied. But was a middle name preceded by Steve and followed by Rogers.

"You're joking," Tony whispered, even if a look at the man he spent the night with and the memory of his physique confirmed it. Besides, in hindsight, Grant's – Steve's identity made sense and explained everything that had happened the night before, starting with the dashing rescue and going all the way to the remarkable refractory period.

Steve Rogers had been lost for years. The twenty years he had claimed to have spent without sex, to be precise. He had disappeared after what by all reports had been a very bitter divorce that no one had seen coming, and it was just Tony's luck to be the one to find him. He had to do something about it, and it would have to be the responsible thing.

Steve sat on the chair next to the bed again. "This mess just got worse. I shouldn't have hidden my identity from you, I – " he began, but Tony interrupted him raising one hand while with the other he put the tray away.

"One, if you apologize one more time, I'm going to punch you. Two, do you mean I had sex with Captain America all night long and I didn't know it? That won't do. I demand a do over. I deserve it."

"It's not a good idea," Grant – Steve – began, but Tony had already abandoned the bed to sit on his lap to kiss him, surrounding his neck with his arms.

"No, it's not a good idea. It's a great one." Tony held Steve's head in his hands to have him look at him. "Look at all the beautiful marks you gave me. I want more. I want this. Do you want this?"

_Do you want me?_

For a long, long moment, Tony held his breath waiting for an answer. He was right there, naked and willing in front of a man who had proven to have a libido to match his despite being in his seventies, finally understanding why so many people wanted to replicate that serum.

_Please, want me._

In the end, the response came in the form of a soft and tender kiss and one of Steve's tender hands holding his back and the other on his ass.

"Aren't you sore?" he asked.

"Yes. That's why you should bottom for me this time."

Steve chuckled against Tony's neck. "I guess I can do that," he said, picking up Tony to carry him back to the bed.


End file.
